Thunder And Lightning And Babies

My coworker is very pregnant. Yes, there are degrees of being pregnant. We all thought she would pop when they forecasted thunder storms last week, but then there was no thunder and she didn't pop.

I read over one of my previous blog posts - more specifically this one, and I realize that it was a bit vague, so I want to clarify that nothing happened other than meeting and talking. After all, I don't jump into things carelessly or without consideration. The only reason I'm not using Matt's real name is because I've chosen to keep my writings at least somewhat anonymous. Protect the innocent and such. Notice how I say the innocent and not asshat drivers who attempt to take out any and every cyclist on the road.

Jesus, take the wheel - or something...

I considered not writing anything about changing my route in case the asshat had found my blog, seen his picture, and is now cyber stalking me as well as in real life. But judging by his use of a proper old-timey camera, I doubt he even knows what the internet is. Maybe they didn't have technology past 1980 in the hole he climbed out from like a god damned angry mole.

I biked the new route last night but not this morning. I thought about it but decided against it because, 1) if he wants to take photos of me, then be my guest - and 2) if I see him again, I'll offer a truce. Maybe he had a terrible day or maybe he hates his life. And since I generally don't hate mine, I can afford to look the other way this time.

Anywho, I'm over it now. Biking is just too good and so is life in general.

This weekend I'm doing my first long ride of the year. Most likely south to Puyallup or thereabouts.

Eighty degrees today! Holy guacamole!